The Sprawl  A Rebellion
by blue-redwriter
Summary: For all his life,Lace had lived in the cage of District Eight.A heap of metal factories and dirty streets stretching out to both horizon,yet the boy still searches for beauty.When the District edges to war, the search intensifies, as the city catches fire
1. Chapter 1

The Sprawl – A Rebellion

_The Revolution of beauty_

The old cement filled buildings that covered most of the central plaza of District eight were crumbling, especially with the added weight of thousands of people pouring into it. Through the cracks and crevices, it was easy to see the fleets of peacekeepers working within its walls. With today's special country-wide broadcast only an hour away, the force frantically tried to get everything under control before the rest of the masses descended upon the square. They were all well aware as to what had happened to District four only a week ago, and the branding of Eight and Three as 'hot' and 'danger' zones by the President added to the tensions within. Armored with guns and cruel, studded whips they patrolled the growing crowds along the fenced-off areas.

Nero, the head peacekeeper, scanned the faces of the masses in search of hope in their expressions. It was his job, he believed, to destroy any hope within the city. Justice, as he once phrased it, District eight's justice, it was variant of the word that didn't even live up to the benefits of '_capitol' _Justice. Because of this, he had a horrible reputation within the city. His light brown eyes, people thought, were only full of joy when they saw suffering. There were many legends amongst the children, particular those of the central zone, who had time to think about these sorts. They believed that whenever someone died, they would see the glimpse of joy within his brown eyes. The Myth featured heavily in their death role-plays, however death was a subject most of the other people refrained from talking about.

Most of the people wore tired faces, after finishing their dirty, shortened shifts at the factories dotted all around the city. As a result of the shortening, the constant black clouds over the district were lighter today than before. Despite the fatigue, Nero detected something else in them, he became uneasy. Most of the public areas had now been filled and the large broadcast screen flickered on. The mocking jay and her companion appeared, seeming to be having fun, nonetheless, this didn't affect any morale within the crowds.

Nero made one more scan, this time he detected something very out of place, a sole revengeful smile within a member of the mass. In an instant the mask went on, all around the district, the peoples identity became hidden, a scene so distant and opposite to what was being broadcast. The bricks and fire were unfolded and the mocking jays cry echoed through the voices of the whole city.

* * *

Luckily for the district, the worst of winter had long gone, it had ventured far away into some distant continent. Only a slight cold was left, however, this was met by the warmth of the rubble and bombs. The lack of coal, temporarily barred by the peacekeepers, meant no cooking, but it was not as if anyone had food either. The factories too were dormant, production had been halted, it was only a routine shortage to the rest of the country, similar to the others. But there was an advantage to a total blackout, no factory fumes poisoned the sky. Lace Yarn was desperate to see the clear sky, a sky he had never seen before. However, leaving home was forbidden during the lockdown. He had already seen glimpses of it through the rough window but he was dying to see its glory.

It was morning, bright rays scattered by the curtains shone the room. Lace routinely checked the television, an old box compactly packed near to corner of the main room, to see if it was over. In hope, he pressed the red switch, but as usual, it was static. It had only been two weeks since the uprising, yet it had already felt so long, the people could not live like this he thought.

Lace's house was situated on the eastern zone of the city, which was one of the poorest areas of the district. Mountains of factories stationed near the dirty unplanned suburbs. Because of its hard-working and poverty stricken nature, it was a rebellion stronghold during the rebellion, the first area to be secured. Unfortunately, it led to heavy bombardment of the zone leaving around a quarter of the area destroyed. The smell of poison now no longer came from the textile machines but from the blood stained streets. His house itself remained relatively untouched, but that couldn't be said by most of his neighborhood.

A newly awakened Blossom Yarn made her way into the main room, she was five years younger than Lace, she was old enough for her first reaping. She shared her brothers, and much of district eight's brown eyes and hair. "Anything?" she asked, "Nope…" he replied. Their parents were still asleep. "How Long is this supposed to last?" Lace shouted, although she too was angry, she was somewhat annoyed at his loudness for some reason, "There just scared, they haven't seen this kind of" she lingered "behaviour now have they?" she talked awfully above her age, Lace didn't reply, instead staring at the buzzing static.

Suddenly, the static quickly morphed, Laces eyes flickered with excitement. To both the siblings surprise, it wasn't an execution. A single figure appeared on the screen, standing in front of a badly damaged but standing justice building, unmistakably the mayor. Although he was quite beat-up, it was a shock that was still alive, but it didn't matter, Lace knew the man wound be dead within a month. He began to speak, there was a slight change to his voice "Upon order from the president, I now announce that the lock-down is over and that all dangers have been overcome, everyone is safe again so business will resume as normal" He then continued with further instructions to specific sectors of the city. With little interest in anything else the mayor had to say, a shade of black overcame the television, as Lace pressed the power again. Blossom went back to inform her parents, but all Lace could think of was visiting Vince, 'perhaps he may have survived', he thought.

He stood up and headed quickly to the door. He had never seen the clear sky before, it was part of his eager search for beauty. He opened it and stepped outside, his heart skipped a beat, he shut his eyes, soaked it inside for a second and then opened them again. The azure colour was one had only seen in the lightest silks. The puffy white clouds bounced along. The sun, the vibrant sun! It shone all over the metal dump city. The scene was breathtaking, unbelievable, one only in Laces dreams, however, the stench of blood was still prominent. It was a shame.


	2. Chapter 2

2 – The train

Lace had already talked to his parents, it was reluctantly agreed (much to the uproar of Blossom) that he didn't have to go to school today. He had to see how Vince was doing. The three of them already knew that school was a deceptive tool used by the capitol. It was just a mixture of textiles, propaganda and fear. Besides, Vince was much more important. He stepped outside, the extravagant display of the morning had disappeared, the factories were rolling again and everything was the same. The only difference was the stretch of rubble which created an even uglier picture of the district. A picture with hideous amounts of smoking rising from fifty different factories while dozens of hovercrafts flew over head, grouped in threes, a few of them were visible, while the noise betrayed the others.

Lace had met Vince one year ago while the man was recovering from the death of his mother. He was walking back from his factory shift, passing the nice side of the District, when he heard the most beautiful of melodies. The only other real song he had heard was the Anthem, which was horribly fallacious. He followed the melody, sub-consciously. It led him to a large house, he walked in the wide open doors to find Vince playing on his piano (something he had never seen before). It was one of the first times he had experience beauty. The magical notes pressed onto his ears, the beat following his own heart, he was actually happy.

The road to Vince's house was far, It was located somewhere north of the district, a very well-to-do area of the city, an advantage of being the brother of a victor. In order to get there he had to catch the district train, a dirty slow- moving version of a building. While in the front carriage, he picked an empty seat. The poorly designed seat arched too forward and had very little leg room, making the ride extremely uncomfortable. It was no wonder that the train ride was completely free, subsidized by the capitol. Long ago, when it was announced that the various train tracks would be built, the capitol made it seem like an incredible feat in human rights. In reality, it changed very little in life, apart from lengthening the time for drudgery and destroying homes.

The capitol had made the lives of the people extra horrible, Lace thought, looking out of the window of the moving train. Not only did the people have to work hard, not only were they paid badly, but they lived in the ugliest place ever, he could feel absolutely no beauty. Although he knew no better, but judging from the stories he had heard from Vince, District 8 was one of the worst places in the country. The streets were dirty grey, the sky was an even dirtier grey, the buildings, the trains, and everything was grey, apart from the black smoke puffing out by the ton. The rows and rows of houses that the train passed were all very much identical to the previous, the rows and rows of factories were also the same. Everything was the same, no creativity, no nature, spreading out to the horizon, infact Lace had never seen any green except the odd jeweled suit or emerald dress on victors during their tours.

The train stopped with a strong thud, pushing everyone forward. Regaining his balance, lace walked out. The streets of this area were much more carefully aligned while the houses were larger and better than those of his suburb, however, they still undeniably carried the curse of the city. Vince's house was not far from the station. As he entered, the sweat melody flooded back to his ears, Vince was on his piano again. Lace was relieved, the man looked slightly thinner but everything else was fine. They began small persiflage, "I'm fine, I guess", a voice interrupted him, "Of course Vince's fine, we've been through much worse, If that's all they can do then…" She stopped. She was the victor Cecelia, Vince's sister, a person recognizable at a single glance, quite popular throughout the country.

"Oh.." Lace was caught by surprise, "I'm sorry" he tepidly laughed, he hated these awkward situations. "It's ok, ummm, your names Lace isn't it?" She asked. Perhaps it was just shock or perhaps it was the feeling of being star struck, Lace just couldn't reply. After a good ten seconds he finally replied nervously, "Yes, Lace Yarn". She smiled at him, "Of what I've heard, you're of a good sort, you're a growing flower, remember that" she said, He was confused, he was about to ask… "Well, I should be going now, Nice meeting you Lace" She gave a look to Vince, then left.

Flower? Flower? Good sort? Wow, Lace felt great about himself and couldn't help but grin. "Flower", Vince was laughing, "Hey, shut it! Just keep playing". Vince smiled and continued while Lace sat and made himself comfortable. It soon occurred to him that he'd never seen a flower before.

The television, which was much more attractive than Lace's, flickered on. It was sudden. A female newsreader appeared, wearing a suit. She stood in front a massive pile of fresh rubble with smoke rising from its charred bricks. It was a calamity, but not an uncommon sight. "Reporting now from the Eastern zone" Se began, "What?" Lace shouted. "Rebel terrorists have just destroyed a factory here", she turned her head a looked at the rubble for a while, "This is all that remains of the peacekeeper uniform factory, ad all its workers, The capitol was vowed to avenge the deaths by destroying those responsible, already five men have been captured and publicly hanged. "

The televised smoke crept itself into Lace's mind. All he could think of was his family, he rushed out of the house, not a word was spoken. He ran fast, and arrived at the station quickly. Waiting, anxiety had gripped him, he cracked his knuckles and remained fidgety until the train picked him up. All he could think of was death.


End file.
